


Hidden | True

by Phosphorescent



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Ficlet, Incest, Jonsa Drabble Fest, Sexual Content, slightly dark jon snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:07:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24151807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phosphorescent/pseuds/Phosphorescent
Summary: The dark, hungry part of him wanted to press his mouth to every inch of that sweet-smelling skin.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 24
Kudos: 128
Collections: Jon x Sansa Drabble





	Hidden | True

**Author's Note:**

> _Written for Jonsafest using[both Day 4 prompts](https://jonsadrabbles.tumblr.com/post/614248648620081152/we-are-extremely-excited-to-be-running-this-event)._
> 
> _I've marked this ficlet 'M', but if anyone thinks it ought to be an 'E', I'm more than willing to change the rating. I don't go here (i.e. write smut) very often, so... ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯_

His eyes were constantly drawn to the flame-brightness of her hair. They greedily traced the graceful slope of her neck; the swell of her breasts; the curve of her hips. Sansa had always been pretty, but pretty was too small a word for the woman she had become.

The dark, hungry part of him wanted to press his mouth to every inch of that sweet-smelling skin, to swallow her laughter and leave her wet and panting. To set his tongue to her body, and flick and tease and _suck_ until she knew no words but “yes” and “please” and “Jon”. Till she could only howl and whimper, tightening round him as she rode out her peak.

He might not be baseborn, but he was base all the same. Only a bastard would desire the woman he’d been raised as a sibling to, never mind that they now knew one another to be cousins in truth. Only a bastard could be so vile, so perverted, as to want a woman who still called him “brother.”

 _A bastard,_ a small, cruel, tempting voice whispered, _or a Targaryen._

For years, he had made himself smaller to fit into a world that didn’t want him; had hidden his longings even from himself. 

_No more._

(Perhaps he’d spent too long in Ghost before the red priestess brought him back. He couldn’t bring himself to care.)

The North had set this bloody crown on his head. If they didn’t like what he did with it, they had only themselves to blame.


End file.
